


Never Have We Ever

by themoonandmargot



Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Sexual Activities (lmao), The AU in which Shaymien Was a Thing and Might Still Sort of Be a Thing, cursing, humor-ish, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 14:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14771304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonandmargot/pseuds/themoonandmargot
Summary: Sometimes Shayne says things, only to realize he really shouldn't have. This is one of those times.





	Never Have We Ever

These sort of days are their favorite. They live for quiet days at the office, when the cameras have seen just enough of them and the empty slots on their schedules align. The gaming room becomes their safe haven, and usually, the clack of Damien’s keyboard fills the spaces between their casual conversation.  
  
But today feels different.  
  
Shayne looks up from his phone to investigate the absence of sound, only to find Damien staring at something far beyond the words on screen. His hands sit at a standstill although an entire inbox-worth of email replies wait at his fingertips. Shayne calls Damien’s name once, then twice just for him to swivel around.  
  
“Oh, hey, I was just, uh–”  
  
“Out of it?” Shayne interrupts. Seated in the bean bag chair behind Damien, he drops his phone onto his stomach before asking the ultimate question: “What’s up?”  
  
It’s like paperwork, the way they talk things out. File a complaint, address the concerns, move on like normal. They know they can be honest with each other, though Shayne watches Damien dance around the question (he always dances around the question) until he confesses, “I was thinking about the video we shot yesterday.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“With the rest of the squad.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Damien looks away, twiddling a loose thread in his flannel. “It’s been… sort of… bothering me.”  
  
“Okay. How come?” Right as the words leave his mouth, Shayne remembers. A grin slips onto his lips. “Was it that thing I said?”

Damien’s head whips up, a fleeting crinkle in his brow. “Oh,” he says. “So you _do_ have morals.”

Damien’s forced cordiality makes for great entertainment, at least for Shayne. “It was supposed to be a joke,” he defends through giggles. “And it was funny, you’ve gotta give it that.”

“Oh, was it funny? Was it really, Shayne?”

Shayne falls silent, too busy visualizing the shocked expressions on all his friends’ faces. He sees Courtney and Noah, their eyebrows flying high; and there’s Olivia, keeled over and folding herself into a ball of disbelief. He can’t see Keith from where they’re sitting, but Shayne hears him yelling, shrieking. “Yes, it was funny!” Shayne concludes, though he can tell Damien disagrees by the way his face screws up.

“Never have I ever _sucked my best friend’s dick?_ ”

Shayne claps his hands together, accompaniment for his own roaring laughter. It gradually dissolves Damien’s uptight demeanor into one of sheepish titters. “Who says that?” Damien continues over Shayne’s chortles. “Who says that during a game of Never Have I Ever?”

“It’s not like I actually did suck your dick,” Shayne reasons, making Damien slap his hands over his face in embarrassment.

The laughter grows stronger but Damien, smiling awkwardly, returns to his monitor with a sigh. “That’s not the problem, but okay…”

And like a switch, the conversation nosedives. The air between them vanishes, and in its place, lead. The room is still when Damien finds his keyboard once again. He types, though the pair of eyes burning into his skull prevents him from resuming his work. Defeated, he lowers his head, and only then does Shayne sense it—the shift from “paperwork” to something hairier, something nastier. Shayne’s voice comes out as a murmur, soft and hesitant. “What’s the real problem?”

Nothing. Then, in the deafening silence, Damien breathes. “It has nothing to do with what you said,” he reveals, keeping his back turned. “It has everything to do with what you didn’t say. Everything we haven’t told them.”

Shayne waits for Damien to continue, and when he doesn’t, he takes the office chair beside Damien’s. Eventually Damien turns to face Shayne. “I know it’s a joke,” the former says. “I know I’m supposed to laugh at all of it. But knowing where it’s coming from makes it difficult.”

Shayne’s eyes fall to both of their knees, brushing against each other. “So what do you want me to do?” he asks.

“I don’t know, maybe don’t joke about us? Don’t hint at stuff or tease things? I think not saying stuff like ‘never have I ever sucked my best friend’s dick’ is a good place to start,” Damien snorts, acidity in his voice.

It makes sense in Shayne’s mind. It does. And none of it should bother him, since all of it is reasonable. But something else wriggles underneath Shayne’s skin and claws at him, irritating him and hurting him all at once. “Okay, but why?” he challenges, aware yet apathetic of how difficult he’s being.

“ _Why?_ Um, because I want it that way?”

“Why do you want it that way?”

Incredulous, Damien cocks his head. “Do I need a reason why I don’t want you to mention our past relationship to thousands of viewers?”

“I think you need a reason why you’re suddenly so uncomfortable with the idea of anyone at all knowing about your past,” Shayne spits. “As if you can hide it forever.”

“I know I can’t, but goddamn, can you at least let me try?”

“But why would I do that? Why do you need to hide the truth from the people who care about you most? Are you that fucking ashamed?”

“ _Ashamed?_ ” Damien furrows his brow with such palpable disdain that it ties Shayne’s throat into knots. He knows this feeling all too well—the sinking stomach, the flushed face.

This is how he felt when they broke up.

Damien recognizes it, too. He regrets inviting the tremor back in his own hands, loathes the way his nose tingles before he cries. Most of all, he hates thinking that they’re walking in circles, that they’ve progressed and moved on from all the trauma of their past, only to revert to pettiness and hostility. He glances at his computer screen, sitting stagnant. _There is work to be done._

“It’s not like that,” Damien sighs. “I’m not ashamed. I never was ashamed.” He rests his hands on Shayne; the touch feels both familiar and foreign. “I know our relationship is a part of our past, and we can’t change that. Not that I want to change that. It was one of the happiest times in my life. And I know that you want a real reason why I can’t tell the world about us just yet. All I can say is I’m not ready. I just need time. And I hope that’s reason enough. I hope you’ll allow me to keep it at that.”

Shayne takes a moment to absorb Damien’s words. He rests his eyes, shutting out all stimuli except the air through the vents and Damien’s hands on his own. A part of him still misses this, the intimacy, the casualness of it all. He would never admit it aloud… and maybe that’s what’s made him bitter.

Maybe it’s the secrets, and the pretense that the feelings they had for each other never existed. The lack of communication only allows Shayne’s darkest thoughts to surface—that none of it ever mattered, that everything between them was fake and forced and useless—and how is he to bring that up in discussion? How is he to express any doubts about their past without implying that it all still means something to him, that he’s insecure about a relationship that should have already died and passed?

“Shayne?” The voice alone is enough to pull him back to Earth. He opens his eyes, and with a final squeeze of Damien’s hands, Shayne lets go.

“I can do that for you,” he heaves. “All the time you need, it’s yours. No questions asked. You’re right, and I’m sorry for being a jerk about it.”

“Aw, Shayne… You weren’t being a jerk. I was being difficult, too. You were understandably upset,” Damien reasons. “And I guess what you said during Never Have I Ever was sort of funny.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was.”

They share a smile before pushing their chairs back to their original spots. Shayne trains his eyes on Damien, now returning to his work, before leaning in. “So, we’re all good? Because if not, I’m totally willing to suck your dick to make it up to you.”

Damien rolls his eyes before grinning at Shayne. “You’re an idiot.”

“Enough said, no blowjobs.” Shayne rises, smirking at Damien’s reaction— _gosh dang, dude_ —while sinking back into his bean bag chair. Blessedly, the sound of the typing fills the room, and Shayne’s mind wanders once again.

No, maybe they’re not all good. Maybe there’s no such thing as “all good” between him and Damien. Maybe a part of them will always be stuck in the past, or maybe they’ll always be too eager to find a new future for themselves. Maybe they still can’t prevent that little intake of breath when the sun illuminates their features just right, or when they find too much comfort in each other’s touch, or when the small wrinkles in their skin remind them just how long they’ve known each other.

Maybe it’s all a little too complicated than Shayne would bargain for. But Shayne remembers that he lives for quiet days at the office—days spent with Damien, his best friend in the entirety of the universe. And he decides that maybe, they’re good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> 1.5k words, holy heck. I sure didn't expect this to be so long! Thank you for reading, and please leave a comment or hmu on Tumblr @shaymiens if you'd like~


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